


Santa Claus is (NOT) Coming to Storybrooke

by ihearttvsnark



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2837957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ihearttvsnark/pseuds/ihearttvsnark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas Eve and Emma unsuccessfully tries to convince Hook that Santa Claus is not a threat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Santa Claus is (NOT) Coming to Storybrooke

**_11:47 p.m. – Christmas Eve_ **

She should have known the night would end like this. All the signs were right there in front of her face, clear as day. The concerned looks, the huddled whispers, the head nods – hell, just the fact that people were gathered in one place to celebrate. When had a party in Storybrooke ever gone as planned? She should have predicted this moment. Because of course she would be standing in the sheriff’s office just before midnight on _freaking_ Christmas Eve, staring at her boyfriend, her father and two (well one _semi-reformed_ ) thieves as they sent her pouty looks from the other side of their jail cells.

**_Three hours earlier_ **

As Granny reads _The Night Before Christmas_ from her spot in the center of the inn’s living room, Emma takes a sip of her wine and shifts a little closer to Hook. They’re standing near the window of the packed room, her parents on the couch closest to them with baby Neal sound asleep in Snow’s arms. Regina’s on the other side of Snow, Robin standing behind her as both of them watches Henry patiently showing Roland how to build Lego cities. Will and Leroy are offering their own tips from the doorway and Granny continually pauses in her reading when their voices get too loud.

Emma smiles into her glass when she sees Ruby elbow Leroy when Granny stops again. A few seconds later, she resumes reading and Emma glances over at Hook, expecting him to be smirking too, but there’s a deep frown marring his face and she instantly feels the familiar jolt of panic run down her spine. He’d been enjoying himself during the potluck dinner, impressing the boys (and her father) with some of his tales (she only half-wondered if he was embellishing the details). But now something is clearly wrong and she can’t imagine what upset him between dessert and story time and she finds herself reaching for his hand, both to anchor herself and to remind him that he’s not alone.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers, speaking the words half into her glass because she doesn’t want to alarm anyone else just yet. It’s Christmas Eve and everyone is having fun. If there’s a problem, they’ll fix it, but maybe they can keep everyone else out of it for now. The savior’s work might never be done, but that doesn’t mean everyone else can’t have a night off for a change.

“Swan, are you listening to this tale? This St. Nick fellow burglarizes dwellings by entering through chimneys once everyone is asleep.” Hook’s eyes are wide with indignation and Emma fights back a laugh because he obviously means well, even if he’s misunderstanding the story. She sets her glass on the windowsill and lays her hand over his arm.

“St. Nick or Santa Claus is not real.” Emma keeps her voice as quiet as possible, even though most of the children in the room are too young to understand and Roland is out of earshot. “He’s just a character from a book. Parents are the ones who really buy the Christmas presents and put them under the tree once the kids go to bed,” she explains.

Instead of looking relieved, Hook raises an eyebrow and continues to stare at her like she’s the one who lost her mind. “A character from a book,” he repeats. “Perhaps you’d like to ask your parents, Snow White and Prince Charming, to weigh in on this tale. How can you be certain this St. Nick does not exist? You stated yourself he has an alias. Why would a cartoon character require an assumed identity?”

Emma opens and closes her mouth because he’s got her there. Could Santa be real? Stranger things had obviously happened. She immediately pushes the thought aside because she does not want to go down that slippery slope. “Okay, I suppose it’s possible that he’s a real person too, but he’s not here in Storybrooke and even if he was, he’s a good guy. He brings presents to kids. That’s why he comes down the chimneys.”

Hook sighs a little too loudly and Emma sees her father glance in their direction. She gives him a quick smile and then leans closer to Hook. “I know what you’re going to say and yes, I see Snow White sitting next to the Evil Queen and Pan was the bad guy, but trust me on this one. We don’t have to worry about Santa coming to steal from us. Just enjoy the story,” she says as she squeezes his hand and gives him a pleading look. Hook nods and Emma lets go of the tension and reaches for her wine glass.

**_11:51 p.m. – Christmas Eve_ **

And _that_ turned out to be her major mistake. Emma realizes it now as she thinks back over the evening. She’d assumed Hook would forget about his Evil Santa theory and just enjoy the party. She’d seen him talking to her father and Robin right before they’d left and Will had been there too. But people talked at parties so why would she think anything of it? Just like she hadn’t thought anything of it when Belle had slipped a book in his hand on their way out the door – Belle brought him books all the time. But Emma hadn’t seen Belle leave the party to retrieve this particular book. If she had, maybe she wouldn’t be having a staring contest with a pirate on Christmas Eve.

Emma mentally admonishes herself for doing it again – for trying to rationalize the behavior or blame herself for not seeing it sooner. It’s not her fault they’re here. Sure, she’d found it a little odd that Robin had been outside with his crossbow when she’d dropped Henry off at Regina’s for the night. And yeah, it had been weird to see her father talking to Will outside Granny’s as she’d driven back home. But she’d just assumed he was warning the younger man not to cause any trouble because no one wanted to spend Christmas Eve in jail for drunken disorderly.

It was obviously better to land there for vigilante justice against Santa…in the form of Granny’s front window.

A cloud of purple magic fills the room and then Regina is standing in front of her, looking less than pleased to be there. Emma can’t blame her for that. She nods toward the cell where Robin and Will have been sitting for the past half-hour (Robin at least has the decency to look ashamed). Emma absently waves her hand.

“Can you take both of them?”

Regina rolls her eyes and throws up her hands, another cloud of purple filling the room. When it fades, she’s gone and so are Robin and Will. Emma walks over to her desk, her eyes lingering on the _History of Santa Claus_ book that Belle unearthed for Hook. She grabs the keys and unlocks the cell door and motions for her father to go.

“Emma,” David starts, but she holds up her hand and he falls silent.

“I’m not going to ask Mary Margaret to bring Neal out in the middle of the night to get you. But maybe next time if you could remember that you’re a sheriff’s deputy and you shouldn’t conspire with known thieves?” Emma ignores the scoffing noise Hook makes and leans up to press a kiss to her father’s cheek. “We’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow.”

David nods and glances back at Hook, sending him a sympathetic look before he heads for the door. Emma moves to stand in the doorway of the cell, once more crossing her arms over her chest as Hook leans against the far wall, his hands resting on his belt buckle. His chin is lifted in defiance and she wants to be aggravated that he still hasn’t backed down, even as she’d herded all of them into the police cruiser (mostly to keep Granny from shooting them).

“Are you ready to admit that I was right so we can home?” Emma asks. They have to be at Regina’s by six so they can be there when the boys wake up and her parents will be bringing Neal over as well. They should be sleeping at the moment and she had been an hour ago – until she’d woken up cold and wondering where Hook had gone. She’d found the Santa Claus book on the kitchen table along with his cell phone (he constantly left it behind since he claimed she ‘never bloody answered’ when he called).

Instinct had sent her back up the stairs to get dressed and she’d just been grabbing her keys when her phone rang. Ruby had called to let her know she needed to get to Granny’s immediately because the front window was broken, Hook and her father were on the roof and Will was only semi-conscious in the middle of the herb garden while Robin tried to explain that he most certainly had not been aiming for the window, but for the shadowy figure they’d assumed was the dastardly Santa (which turned out to be Whale sneaking out of Ruby’s room).

“I will concede that this Kris Claus fellow did not appear at Granny’s establishment this evening, but by keeping us here, you may have left other Storybrooke citizens vulnerable.”

Emma bites down on the inside of her cheek and counts to ten in her head because she does not want to start shouting at him because it’s bad enough they’re going to be standing in a jail cell when the clock strikes midnight. “It’s Kris Kringle and maybe you’re right and having so many names is suspicious, but I promise you he’s not lurking in the shadows.” She hopes not anyway because she’d have to leave town rather than listen to him gloat.

Hook nods and steps away from the wall until he is standing in front of her. “In that case, we should return home.” He cups her cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb across her chin and she can’t resist leaning into his touch. “I apologize for not being there when you woke.”

All of her anger and annoyance slips away and her heart does that thing where it flips in her chest. Sometimes she imagines actual butterflies in her stomach and then she hates herself a little because she is so not that girl (except with him she is). “Just don’t make a habit of it,” she says and when he smiles at her, she knows there’s no turning back. How can she stay mad at him for wanting to keep her and everyone else safe? (But seriously, Santa better not wander into town with a curse up his sleeve).

“I’m going to let you go with a warning this time,” Emma says. She moves out of the cell and he follows, easily sliding his fingers between hers and clasping their hands together as they walk toward the door. “But you and your anti-Santa crew are going to have to fix Granny’s window tomorrow.” She considers adding that they should apologize to Whale and then decides he probably deserved it.

Hook let go of her hand so she can lock the door and Emma reaches for his again when she’s finished. A light dusting of snow has fallen since they’ve been inside and the bright white powder seems to glow beneath the streetlamps. She can’t help smiling at the pretty scene and when she glances over at Hook, he’s watching her, his bright eyes twinkling. Maybe this wasn’t the quiet Christmas Eve she had in mind (and maybe just maybe she’s partially at fault for dragging them to jail instead of letting them go earlier), but there’s snow on the ground and it’s officially Christmas and Hook is smiling at her like she’s responsible for everything beautiful in the world.

She takes a step closer and he leans into her, their lips meeting in a sweet kiss that quickly takes on a life of its own as his hook snags one of her belt loops and tugs her into his frame. Emma wraps her arms around his neck, her fingertips tangling in his hair as she feels his hand slip beneath her coat and under her sweater to rest of the sensitive skin of her lower back. Despite the cool air and the falling snow, his touch sends a wave of warmth through her and she smiles against his lips.

(There are definitely butterflies in her stomach).

 

 


End file.
